It was supposed to be a perfect night.
Julian had spent the day elbow-deep in dirt at one of Eliza's garden projects, ruining a pair of thousand-dollar boots without blinking. Then he took her to a hole-in-the-wall pizza place in Brooklyn where the chairs wobbled and the cheese could cause a small fire.
It was the kind of night Julian would remember forever.
Until it all blew up.
They were walking past a newsstand when it happened.
Eliza slowed, glancing at the flashing screens.
Julian didn't even notice — until he heard her sharp intake of breath.
There it was:
"JULIAN CROSS STRIKES AGAIN — BILLIONAIRE CEO BUYS HISTORIC TOWER."
Front and center, a glossy photo of him stepping out of a black car, looking very much not like a broke consultant.
Eliza's head whipped around.
"You're Julian Cross?" she said, her voice low and dangerous.
Julian froze. "Eliza, I—"
"You lied to me." Her tone cut sharper than the rain that had started to fall.
"I didn't lie," Julian said quickly. "I just… didn't tell you everything."
"Didn't tell me?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You pretended to be someone else! You let me think you were struggling like the rest of us!"
He stepped toward her. "I didn't want the money to matter. I wanted you to matter."
Her laugh was hollow. "You think you get points for that?"
A taxi splashed by, throwing muddy water onto the sidewalk. Neither of them moved.
Julian shoved his hands into his pockets, hating how helpless he felt. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You didn't even trust me enough to tell me the truth," she said, voice tight. "How could I trust you now?"
For a second, the city noise faded. It was just him and her, and all the things he couldn't say fast enough to fix this.
Eliza backed away.
"I have to go," she said.
And this time, Julian didn't follow.
He stood there long after she disappeared into the crowd, the rain soaking through his expensive jacket, the flashing headlines mocking him.
Julian Cross, the man who could buy anything… had just lost the one thing he couldn't replace.